


I don't know what you saw, I want somebody who sees me

by soberqueerinthewild



Series: As Cool As I Am [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Handprint fun, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Post-Canon, Resurrection, a little bit of Maribel if you look hard enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 08:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20355523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soberqueerinthewild/pseuds/soberqueerinthewild
Summary: Maria and Michael break up, Maria and Alex repair their friendship, everyone tries to resurrect Max.Part 2 of Truth is just like time. Alternatively titled "In which Kyle goes to a gay bar"Originally posted to tumblr on 5/20/19





	I don't know what you saw, I want somebody who sees me

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing the migration of fics from tumblr! I'm almost done I swear! 
> 
> Title from Dar Williams As Cool As I Am

It doesn’t end with a bang, but with a whimper. She never does work up the nerve to have that direct, adult conversation she knows would’ve been the healthy way to handle the new revelations. But with running the bar and taking care of her mother, she never really has emotional reserves to handle whatever the result of that conversation might be. And on the days she thinks maybe she could stand it, Michael always looks decimated from another day of practicing new powers, following new leads that turned into dead ends, or soaking his troubles in acetone. 

Instead, she lets the relationship start to die the death of a million little cuts. Because after that day in the Crashdown, it’s like a a veil lifts and she realizes that the problems in her relationship don’t start or end with feeling like she’s the interlude in someone else’s love story. She let herself fall into familiar patterns with Michael. Maria’s been told more than once that she has a tendency to put her own needs last. Hazards of a psychic, she guesses, and it’s only gotten worse since her mom hasn’t been coherent enough to remind Maria that she matters; that it’s ok for her to ask for what she needs. It’s not that Maria is a pushover, far from it. She doesn’t let people walk all over her, and she stands up for herself when the situation demands it. It’s more that she rarely asks for help, because when she can innately sense that her friends are already struggling with their own grief and trauma, it feels easier to just... be her own damn savior. That way, she can stick to being the fun, supportive friend, instead of adding to their already heavy burdens. In relationships, when in every argument, she feels the disappointment and hurt radiating off her partner, well, who could blame her if she twists herself in knots to be everything they need instead. In recent years, she’s mostly stuck to dating people like Chad, with the emotional depth of a banana slug, whose feelings never reached the point of even registering; or one night stands, where she has no problems asserting her own needs rather than even trying for a relationship with any sort of future where she’d be forced to figure out how much of herself she was willing to give away. 

It’s a little ironic because she’d seen choosing to accept Michael’s overtures and start a relationship as progress of a sort. Messy and perhaps ill-advised, but an attempt nonetheless at putting her own wants and needs first. It felt unnatural, and guilt settled heavily on her shoulders, yet she thought perhaps it would fade. Other people did this all the time, prioritized relationships over friends, and she thought maybe if she pushed through, it would start to feel better. And maybe it would’ve in time, but it turns out that making that one choice didn’t alter her well-worn patterns. Michael’s pain, as much as he tried to tamp it down with her, felt so overwhelming that she’d slipped into a familiar caretaking role. She’d let herself be what he needed: a safe place, a distraction. She could sense that he wanted things to be easy with her, so she acquiesced. She didn’t ask the questions she knew he didn’t want to answer, and she pushed down her own resentments that he’d had a brother with healing hands and never told her, when he knew she had a mother who rambled about aliens and was rapidly losing her memories. Pushed down her fury that she’d been drugged and violated and used and he still hadn’t told her about what happened to her until events forced his hand. In darker moments, she wonders if he kept it from her not because he was so used to protecting the secret at all costs, but because it was more important to him to have someone with whom he could escape his reality than to be honest with her. 

In an alternate universe, she would’ve recognized what this was a lot sooner, and adjusted her expectations accordingly. In fact at first, right after Texas, she’d thought Michael Guerin might be the perfect escape for her, too. Someone who wouldn’t expect anything from her, who wouldn’t worry if she drowned her heartache over her mother in tequila a little more than was advisable, and who could help her work off some frustrations with sex whenever she wanted it. But somehow, someway, without her even recognizing it, her feelings for Michael had deepened, and learning about his history with Alex had raised the stakes. She wouldn’t risk hurting Alex for just a fling, but she’d begun to think that she and Michael might have a shot at something real, and perhaps, after feeling lonely for so long, it might be worth the cost. So she’d stubbornly ignored the signs, pretended that it was working for her, that they were headed somewhere, that she wasn’t just doing what she always did, and letting him take what he needed from her, while burying her own needs down deep. Now that her eyes are open, she realizes it’s not even a decent distraction. Sure the sex and companionship is nice, their banter can be fun when either of them is up for it, and she knows they do genuinely care for each other, but she can’t leave her problems behind with him. Not when after a day spent listening to her mom ramble about aliens and mind control, she comes home to Isobel freaking Evans in her kitchen, taking a walk through her best friend’s memories in the newest attempt to resurrect Max. This is not what she needs. 

When Isobel and Liz finally leave, she knows she can’t leave it one more night. It’s Sunday, which is both her day off and the night the bar closes at 9, so it’s empty when she leads Michael down the stairs and suggests a night cap. Maybe this’ll be easier outside the confines of her apartment in a more neutral place. When she tells him it’s over, Michael looks resigned, but not surprised. It’s been weeks of cutting remarks, awkward silences, and disconnected sex, as her heart really hasn’t been in it. Maria had kind of been waiting for him to put them out of their misery, but now realizes Michael has never gotten this far in a relationship and has no idea what to do, so it falls on her. 

“Is it the alien thing? Or is it just me?” Maria forces herself to harden her heart against the flash of pain in Michael’s eyes. She knows abandonment is a sore spot for him. “Or is it Alex?” 

His name hangs between them, for so long unspoken. She doesn’t answer; it’s all those things and none at the same time. 

Michael rushes to fill the silence. “I’ve told you, it’s over, I’m over him.” 

It’s the blatant lie that pushes her out of the resigned acceptance, and sparks fire in the pit of her stomach. “Oh yeah?” She retorts. “Tell that to my light bulbs.” 

When he doesn’t respond, but merely arches an eyebrow at her, feigning confusion, she continues conversationally, “You know, I lied. Kyle Valenti and Alex aren’t actually dating.” 

Even as the words come out of her mouth she doesn’t know if she means them as a jab, a test, or just a parting gift. If it’s a test, he definitely fails, as she barely has to try to feel the wave of relief, and the spike of sharp hope that course through Michael in an instant, followed closely by guilt.

She cuts him off before he can mutter a denial. “You can’t lie to a psychic, Guerin.” 

He hangs his head, but doesn’t try to convince her. She doesn’t want to make this hard. If he keeps looking like that, she’s worried she’ll cave. Her weakness is kicked puppies, after all. But this isn’t good for either of them. She’s seen the cracks and she can’t pretend they don’t exist. Can’t stay in this just so he doesn’t have to handle another person walking away. She desperately wishes now they hadn’t tried this. He could use a friend, they both could, and it’ll be hard to get back there now, with resentments between them. She tries for that maturity and honesty she hasn’t been able to muster in the last weeks. 

“Michael, we just can’t be what each other needs. You want something that’s a little bit easy: a distraction, an escape maybe? It’s ok to want that, but it can’t be with me. Because for me, choosing this, us, wasn’t easy. It had a cost. And it’s not an escape when my mother’s afflictions are wrapped up in alien secrets you don’t like talking about with me. I can’t keep pretending those things aren’t true, or pretending this is gonna be something it never is.” She blinks back tears and avoids his gaze. 

When he finally speaks he sounds as defeated as she feels. “It sounds like your mind’s made up then. Should I even bother trying to change it?” 

She swallows her knee jerk response of ‘do you even want to?’ because it won’t help anyone. “Yeah, it is made up,” she replies instead.

She can’t resist taking this last opportunity to say the words that have been bubbling under her tongue for the last few weeks. 

“And I know you didn’t ask, but just my two cents? Distraction is a coping mechanism, but it’s supposed to be a temporary one. Someday you’ve got to stop avoiding, stop escaping into a relationship or a bottle, and actually talk about some of your trauma. You’ve been through so much, and I know you want to focus on Max, but ignoring everything else isn’t helping. I know talking to a therapist is probably out, but maybe you should try with a friend. Maybe someday that can even be me, but not if we keep doing this.” 

She doesn’t really expect a response from him, but his silence is a deafening confirmation that she’s doing the right thing. They sit there staring at each other for what feels like an hour before he finally mutters, “I’m sorry, Deluca.” 

“Yeah, me too.” And she really is. “Take care of yourself, Guerin.” The last names feel like an attempt to erect a wall, to regain some distance and bring them back to a time where all that was between them was caustic exchanges about his bar tab and harmless flirting. He takes the cue and gets up to leave, with just one dejected look over his shoulder on his way out the door. 

She manages to wait until she’s sure he’s out of earshot before she breaks down. Weeks of pent up emotions flow out of her and she’s choking on her sobs, making it hard to breathe. She feels so desperately alone all of the sudden. She should call Liz, but even though she knows it’s not fair, the only person she wants right now is Alex. Ten minutes later with two shots of tequila warming her veins and clouding her head just enough, she gives in and presses the call button. He answers breathless after three rings, his voice laced with concern. 

“Maria, is everything ok?” 

They never call, only text, especially lately. Hearing his voice brings on a new round of tears, she tries to speak through them, but the words won’t come. What could she even say? ‘I broke up with the love of your life and I need you to comfort me?’ She wonders for a sick, dizzying moment if maybe Alex already knows. If maybe he was the first call Michael made on his way out the door. She pushes away the paranoia, but still can’t find the words. 

Alex doesn’t need them. “Are you at the bar?” She manages to choke out an affirmative. “I’ll be right there.” 

True to his word, he’s there 10 minutes later, and for a second she wonders where he was, since clearly he couldn’t have arrived that fast from his cabin. Her question is answered as Kyle trails in after him. He seems to have appointed himself head of the Alex Manes defense squad and determined he might be in need of protection from Maria, for fuck’s sake. God, she really doesn’t want to lose her shit in front of Valenti. He seems to have matured but it’s still hard for her to think of him as anything other than the asshole, high school bully, who Liz was much too good for. Alex immediately understands what she needs and as soon as he sees her face he tells Kyle he can go as he takes three steps across the room to fold her into his arms. Kyle turns and leaves without comment. 

Alex strokes her hair and she leans against him heavily. She knows she owes him an explanation of some kind for dragging him over here. 

“It’s over. I broke up with Michael.” Alex’s hand stills in her hair for a fraction of a second before resuming the comforting, even, strokes. “You were the only one I wanted. I know it’s so unfair of me to even call.” 

He shushes her as he takes the seat beside her, re-adjusting but never removing his arms from her shoulders. “You can always call me,” he assures her softly. 

Maria tentatively reaches out with her powers and for the first time in months she can actually feel something from him. The empathy and love for her emanating off of him feel like a balm to her soul. It’s such a relief to feel anything from him at all, that she pulls back and stops herself from probing too deeply. If underneath there’s just the tiniest spark of hope, well, no one would blame him, but she’d rather not know. For now, she would prefer to relish the comfort of her best friend and leave reality for another day. 

***

Her relationship with Alex isn’t magically repaired overnight. There is still a guardedness to their interactions that was never there before, but day by day things improve. Within a week Alex has started swinging by the Wild Pony again during slow times to keep her company, and joining her and Liz at the Crashdown for milkshakes. It feels like the old days for the most part, even though they both avoid the elephant in the room and haven’t discussed Michael at all. The night of the breakup Alex asked enough to ascertain whether or not Michael deserved an ass kicking (she’s guessing if she’d said yes he might have outsourced to Valenti, but she’s confident it would’ve been at least attempted either way), and then didn’t press when she didn’t offer details beyond the vague ‘we were looking for different things.’ It’s still not as effortless as it once was, but the fact that they are both trying so hard makes her confident that they can get back there eventually.

As the weeks pass she starts to feel more like herself and she wonders if maybe she should tell Alex that Michael hasn’t given up hope. Maybe all they need is a little nudge. She ultimately decides against it. There’s so much she still doesn’t know about what’s happened between them all these years and Michael’s not exactly in a great place to be with anyone right now anyways. Besides, the part of her that’s still re-learning to sleep alone isn’t sure she could handle being the conduit in their reconciliation quite yet.

Instead, she vows to stay out of it and let them work out their own shit if they can. Alex at least seems to be making progress on some of his. Though there’s a heavy sadness and guilt that burns beneath anything else he feels, now that he’s finally let her back in, she’s thrilled to realize that she no longer senses the blanket of shame that used to weigh down any joy he tried to claim for himself. It seems he’s cast it aside these past few months and traded it for a steady surety and confidence that suits him as well as the leather jacket he’s taken to wearing again.

Apparently his look isn’t the only thing that’s changed. Maria’s surprised and pleased when Kyle invites her one night to come along with him and Alex to the only gay bar within a 100 mile radius of Roswell. Since her breakup with Michael, Kyle has warmed considerably to her. He was never rude before, just coolly polite, always keeping one eye on Alex as if he might need to rescue him from the conversation at any minute. He’s finally dropped that habit and she’s come to find him witty and charming in a way she didn’t expect. And since she and Alex still fall into awkward silences when one-on-one, the specter of Michael hanging between them, Kyle has been the perfect buffer. She’s tempted by the offer, especially when she learns it’s karaoke night, but Maria never leaves the Wild Pony on a Saturday night. It’s her most profitable and she really can’t afford to miss out on the night’s tips, but a conversation with Liz grounds her in the realization that there really is no amount of money she wouldn’t sacrifice to see Kyle Valenti in a gay bar.

Liz and Rosa have opted for a sister’s night in, and so it’s just Maria, Kyle, and Alex for the night. Maria finds that even more amazing than seeing former homophobic bro-jock Kyle Valenti looking completely at home in a gay bar, is watching Alex’s whole demeanor noticeably relax as soon as they walk through the door. She’d anticipated that he might be nervous or uncomfortable, since as far she knows he’s not the gay bar type, but he looks completely at ease, smiling and even flirting a bit with the bartender as he grabs them all another round of drinks. 

Kyle interrupts her musing. “The first time I brought him here he was all nerves. I don’t think he looked a single person in the eye, and look at him now.” 

“Wait, _you _brought _him _here?”

“Well I couldn’t watch him sulk one more goddamn day. We’d both been buried in research for a month after that night, mired in guilt over the atrocities our fathers committed, and starting to go a little stir crazy. I knew we had to do something to break our rut, so I got online, found this place and kidnapped him. He was pretty mad at first, but it turned out to be fun. So we’ve come back every few weeks since, when we need to blow off some steam.” 

“Well you look awfully comfortable here. Come to any new revelations about yourself I should know about?” She’s half-kidding, but on the other hand he seems awfully enthusiastic about bimonthly trips to a gay bar so maybe he is enjoying more than just the drinks.

Kyle lets out a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, I seem to be unfairly, but fatally afflicted with heterosexuality.” 

Maria lets out a startled laugh. “Wait, are you legitimately upset about that?” Maria has long considered herself to be, at the very least, on the flexible side of heteroflexible, (bisexual, she guesses would be the right word, though it’s not one she’s ever used out loud to describe herself, in part because opportunities to explore this part of herself have been scarce in Roswell), so she can’t really relate to Kyle’s consternation. 

“Yes!” Kyle exclaims, banging both hands on the table for emphasis. “I really opened myself up to the possibility, thinking maybe my homophobia in high school was really some version of self-hatred. But after much reflection, I think I was just a dick. I just... don’t want to have sex with men.” 

Maria tries to follow. “And this is... upsetting to you?” 

“Yes! I mean, Alex is my favorite person; we already spend all of our time together. Wouldn’t it be great if we could also have sex? I mean, if I were even just a little gay, or bisexual, I guess, and you know... if he actually wanted to have sex with me. Which I don’t think he does. Which is honestly a little offensive?! I mean have you seen me? I’m a catch. And I’m a surgeon. Do you think it’s ‘cause I’m not tall?”

Apparently after after a 48 hour call shift, the two drinks Kyle downed quickly when they arrived have hit him hard. Luckily, drunk Kyle is a trip and a half. Even if she has to carry his ass home, it will have been worth it just to bear witness to that little rant. 

Maria pats his shoulder placatingly, “Yes, Kyle, you’re definitely a catch. You know how I know? ‘Cause all those guys,” she points to the six guys she can see right now that have zeroed in on their table, “aren’t staring at me. If you want to explore whether the attentions of men do it for you or not, I think you might find a willing test subject here.”

Kyle laughs, preening himself a bit. 

Alex returns to the table as they are still laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh just Valenti enjoying a little ego boost,” Maria quips.

“Oh yeah, he’s very popular here. I actually feel kind of bad about bringing him here to disappoint his many admirers with his unfortunate heterosexuality.”

“But you do anyway, because I’m an excellent wingman.” 

“Well,” Alex concedes, “you’re certainly a determined wingman.” 

The banter is interrupted as a very attractive guy who looks like he just stepped out of a Navy Seals recruitment brochure, approaches their table and asks Alex to dance. To Maria’s utter shock and delight, he gets up, tosses a wink back at her and Kyle, and makes his way out to the dance floor. Maria can only watch in amazement. She wonders idly just how many glasses and light bulbs would explode if Michael were here to witness this, but pushes the thought away to focus on Alex. 

Despite the fact that Alex has been out since he was 16, there’s always been a disconnect in his willingness to state he was gay and actually acting on it, at least in public. He confessed once while drunk and maudlin that though he’s been out to basically everyone since DADT was repealed, there are still moments when he hears the echo of his father’s voice ranting about how his perversions make him weak. That sometimes, when he catches himself looking at a guy in a certain way, he suddenly feels like he’s still that scared 11 year old who isn’t exactly sure why his dad is beating him, but it seems to be something about the way he looks at Kyle Valenti. Maria’s heart broke for him then, and she always hoped he’d figure out how to overcome it. Watching him now, relaxed in a room full of other queer people, it seems like he finally has, and Maria couldn’t be prouder. She’s not totally sure how Jesse Manes wound up in a coma, but she sure as hell won’t be shedding any tears about it. Sometimes she thinks she’d have killed him herself given half a chance. 

The night flies by in a haze of drinks, dancing, and karaoke, and ends with Maria and Kyle shamelessly eavesdropping as yet another cute guy propositions Alex. They both boo rather loudly when Alex lets him down gently and suggests they finally head home. Alex is the designated driver (apparently Kyle had the honor last time, when they brought Liz and Isobel, of all people, with them. Maria tries not to be resentful that she hadn’t gotten an invite) so they have no choice but to call it a night and follow him out the door. 

“Why’d you turn that guy down?” Kyle whines drunkenly. “I’ve seen you talk to him here before. He’s cute, right?” He looks to Maria for confirmation. 

“Yes, totally.” She nods her head emphatically, the motion causing her to stumble a bit, and forcing her to admit that she’s more than a little drunk herself. 

Alex smirks at them, a spark of mischief she hasn’t seen in a long time in his eyes. “Honestly, he’s just not that good in bed.” 

“What?” Kyle practically screeches, “You’ve been holding out on me, Manes! As your wingman you are obligated to tell me these things. When did you even have time? I see you like every day.”

“It was barely worth writing home about. When we were here last month? Or maybe six weeks ago, he gave me his number and we hooked up one night you were on call, I think. It was fine, but I’m not looking for a repeat performance or anything.” Maria tries to catch his gaze, but he looks pointedly away and clears his throat, an awkward silence falling for the first time that evening. 

Maria’s insides twist uncomfortably, guessing why Alex isn’t looking for repeats. She feels a momentary kinship with Alex’s random hookup, as they both hadn’t realized they could never compete with 10 years of cosmic, epic, star-crossed love. Maria forces herself to halt that train of thought. She really doesn’t want to let the bitterness take over and sour her night. She knows that eventually she’s going to have to reckon with Alex and Michael. If they get back together she will have to work on seeing them together and thinking about their relationship without it hurting. She won’t lose Alex again, so she’ll figure it out. But tonight is not the night for that. Tonight was supposed to be about fun, reconnecting with her friend, singing some karaoke, and watching Valenti get hit on by men, all of which she accomplished. 

She forces herself not to dwell, and instead she slings an arm over Kyle’s shoulder. “Hey, I still think you’re a good wingman. You can’t be held responsible for quality.” 

“Next time I’ll ask for references before sending anyone your way.” Kyle jokes as Alex shoves him towards the car. 

“Get in before I decide to leave you behind.”

Maria clambers into the front seat next to Alex, forcing Kyle into the back. She tries to hold on to the joy of the night, of the few hours she was able to leave her troubles behind her. She leans against the door, and drifts off to the sound of Alex softly singing along to the radio, grateful for the temporary reprieve. 

***

After that night, Maria realizes how important it is for all of them, Alex, Kyle, Liz, Rosa, and even Michael and Isobel to take breaks. She feels helpless in all of it, not able to cure her mother or be of much use in the plans for Max, so instead she focuses on taking care of herself and her friends in the process. She sets time aside for dance parties and slumber parties with Liz and Rosa, as well as movie nights with Liz, Rosa, Kyle, and Alex, as they all enjoy making Kyle sit through all of the Star Wars movies. She even pushes past her distaste for Isobel Evans, which she’s forced to reconsider a bit anyways as she learns that some of the actions Maria so resented were really Noah acting through her. So she does her best to be kind when she makes deliveries of food and booze for Isobel and Michael. The act allows her to feel useful without immersing herself in all the alien drama or having to talk to Michael. 

About six weeks after she and Michael officially ended things, she catches him lingering in the Wild Pony parking lot, a look of indecision on his face. She stops and takes stock of him for a long minute. The sharp stab of pain, anger, and guilt she’s felt previous times they’ve seen each other seems to have lessened to a dull ache. She meant it when she’d told him that she hoped they could be friends again someday, and she supposes now is as good a time as any to start. She rolls her eyes and shoves him towards the door. He gives a surprised squak, and then a flash of a relieved smile, accepting her overture. After that he makes an appearance once or twice a week, mostly with Isobel or Liz. He doesn’t sit at the bar anymore, which she appreciates, as she’s not ready for the proximity, but it doesn’t hurt as much to look at him as she feared and she has hope that’ll it will continue to get easier.

It seems that Alex and Michael have moved past some of their uneasiness too, enough that they aren’t limiting their interaction to text and email anymore. Liz has made off-hand mention of planning sessions where Michael, Isobel, Liz, Kyle, and Alex were all present. She’s also seen them at the Crashdown together a few times, talking quietly, with a nervous energy crackling between them. Maria tries not to wonder if they’ve made their way back to each other in other ways. She wants badly not to care, but her skin still flushes when Michael catches her eye, and her body still unconsciously seeks his in the middle of the night. She knows these reflexes will fade at some point, maybe after her patented cure of random sex, different guy, which she hasn’t worked up the energy for yet, but for now it’s hard to shake. 

Intellectually, she’s pretty certain Michael and Alex are not actually together, if only because she imagines the nervousness would dissipate in that case. She can’t help but notice how Alex can’t figure out what to do with his hands when Michael is near, clenching them into fists or tucking them in his pockets, as if he needs to physically restrain himself from touching. She’s not too proud to admit she does eavesdrop the times she sees them talking. and when Alex senses her presence he always takes an unconscious step backwards widening the distance, and elevates his tone just enough to be sure she hears that the conversation is business rather than personal. 

Though she doesn’t immerse herself in alien fight club, she gathers from her talks with Liz, Alex, and Kyle that slow, but steady progress has been made in the plans to resurrect Max. She stays stayed largely out of the loop, for her own sanity, but she makes sure Liz knows that if she does need to talk about it, or if Maria can be any help at all, she’ll set aside her reservations and do what she can. 

That’s how, about six months after _that night_, which is how they all have apparently decided to refer to the night when Max died, she ends up in a dank cave, on a cold night, with claps of thunder echoing in her bones, questioning how the hell this is her life. 

***

When Alex and Kyle had come into the bar just before closing two nights before, looking like death warmed over, she knew something was going on, especially when she spotted what looked like a glowing fingerprint peeking out of the neck of Alex’s shirt. She stares pointedly until he buttons it up all the way. Once she ushers out the last of the drunks, she pours tequila for all of them wordlessly, knowing she’s going to be in for a hell of a ride. The plan as they lay it out sounds a little convoluted to her ears, based off some Project Shepherd research, plus a lot of conjecture and half-baked hopes, but it’s all they’ve got. 

“So, let me make sure I understand. Your research shows that strong emotions fuel alien power.” 

“Yes,” Kyle answers first. “In all the experiments at Caulfield that proved true. Any strong emotions increased the effectiveness of the powers, like anger or fear.” 

“Right, but also, we do know from Noah and from those experiments that killing is the most effective. But that’s out of the question?” Maria’s not sure if that’s a statement or a question. 

Alex rushes to assure her. “Yes, out of the question. ‘Do no harm’ over here wouldn’t let us sacrifice my dad to the cause.” Its a testament to how far from normal they’ve strayed that Maria’s not sure if it’s a joke or not. Alex continues, “But we think that love is just as effective. In the experiments, the aliens were stronger when they were protecting others, and we know that Max brought Liz back from the dead, just on his own power, fueled by his love for her.” 

“Right,” Maria continues, “So you want Michael and Isobel together, with their new healing skills, to use their love for Max to fuel his resurrection?” 

“We think it’s gonna take a little more than that. Max has been dead nearly six months now. Liz had barely been gone a minute, and Max was more experienced at healing. It was his main power, not a side one, so we think they’ll need more help.” 

“And this is where Liz comes in?” Maria asks. This is the part of the plan that scares her the most. This all sounds so intense and she’s not sure she wants Liz anywhere near it. 

“Yes, Izzy has walked through Liz’s mind before, and when she does, she can feel Liz’s love for Max shine through her,” Kyle explains. “She thinks she can harness it, combined with her own, to boost her power. And since there’s a storm coming in two days, and Michael’s been working with electricity a lot, he’s going to try to do that Thor thing Max did.” Despite the serious nature of the conversation, Maria’s amused to see Alex shoot Kyle an approving grin, like he does anytime Kyle manages to make an accurate sci-fi reference. 

Alex adds, “That’s the plan and we kind of just have to hope it works. We really can’t know until we try.” 

Maria’s not confident it will, but she knows one thing: she’ll have to be there. She fixes them both with a stubborn glare they know better than to argue with. “If Liz is going to tear down her armor to flay herself open with her love for Max, I have to be there for her. If this all goes sideways, she’s going to need someone that’s in their right mind.” 

“I can do that, Maria. I know all this has been hard for you. You do not have to come.” Maria knows it’s the sentiment is coming from a good place, which is the only reason she doesn’t flip him off for his slightly patronizing tone. 

“I assume Kyle is there as, you know, an actual doctor to make sure Michael and Isobel don’t kill themselves in the effort. And I’m guessing you’re directing this operation, Alex. You’ll have your hands full, so that leaves me for Liz.” 

Alex relents. “I think she wanted to ask, but she didn’t want you to feel obligated.” Maria shakes her head. Sometimes she and Liz are too alike for their own good, never wanting to add to the other’s burdens. 

“Ok, then it’s settled. Just tell me when I have to be there and if there’s anything else I need to know. Like for instance, why you’ve got a handprint on your shoulder, Alex.” 

“Because he’s a lunatic that’s why!” Kyle exclaims in exasperation. “Just sliced his own shoulder open today when we were going through the plan with Michael and Isobel. Michael healed him, fueled by anger primarily, since this one wouldn’t stop antagonizing him. I don’t know exactly what you were trying to do.” 

Alex looks down, avoiding both of their gazes. “It’s just a backup plan, but hopefully it won’t matter.” 

“Backup plan?” Kyle seems as confused as Maria is. “Oh, in case love isn’t a strong enough motivator for Michael, you wanted to see if he could heal with anger motivating him?” 

“Something like that,” Alex responds evasively. 

He’s obviously not telling them something, but when Maria tries to pry into his feelings she feels that steel wall again, as Alex was clearly expecting her. She doesn’t love surprises, but there are more important things to focus on, so she lets it go and she, Alex, and Kyle spend the rest of the night thinking about supplies to bring to the cave to be sure they are prepared for any eventuality. With so much out of their hands, they grip tightly to what they can control. 

***

As happy as Maria is that they thought to pack warm clothes and rain gear, she realizes there was no real way to prepare for this. They wait helplessly while Michael paces outside in the wind and rain, trying to figure out how Max managed to harness power from the heavens. She hopes someone has thought of a plan to tap into Michael’s love for Max, because for now he seems to be cursing his name. At last, Michael re-enters the cave and he does seem to be buzzing with energy, so something must’ve worked. Now that the plan is set in motion, Maria’s suddenly freaking out a little. She looks over at Alex and copies the slow, deep breath he takes before he starts directing everyone as they’ve practiced. Maria and Liz are stretched out on a cot against the far cave wall, far enough to not be in the way, but in Isobel’s line of sight. Maria’s positioned Liz so she is sitting between Maria’s legs, leaning back on her for support, Maria’s arms tucked tightly around Liz to ground her if channeling her love and grief becomes too much. 

Maria watches as Alex dips his hand in the silver solution and pulls Max from the pod. Immediately, Isobel and Michael place their hands over Max’s heart, and Maria can feel the swirling of love coursing through the cave. The energy emanating from Michael and Isobel is intense and a little frightening. Max’s body pulsates as power surges through him, but as the continued attempts don’t push breath back into his lungs, Maria feels Michael’s frustration mount and he lets out a pained scream. Maria can tell that the frustration and love aren’t working together to fuel his powers, but rather fracturing it. She looks around panicked, unsure if anyone else is aware that Michael is about to come apart at the seams. Liz has her eyes screwed shut, tears streaming down her face as she pushes bruises into Maria’s arms. Isobel has both hands plastered over Max’s heart, eyes never leaving Liz’s face, completely focused on her attempts, only love flowing through her body into Max. But Maria can feel that Michael’s love for Max is clouded by anger, frustration, and fear, and he can’t seem to focus it, as the power he channeled from the storm threatens to overwhelm him. Maria sees Kyle take an unconscious step forward, seemingly concerned about the power expenditure but unsure what to do, until Alex orders orders him to stop and step back. Maria’s panic recedes a bit as she sees a calm certainty on Alex’s face. He moves purposefully, kneeling on the other side of Max directly across from Michael. 

Michael looks at him panicked, “No, Alex, get back! There’s too much… it’s too much.”

“Michael. Stop. Look at me.” Alex’s voice is a stark contrast to Michael’s: calm, but commanding. Michael seems grateful for the intervention and does as he’s told. Isobel stops her attempts too. They both look to Alex for direction.

Alex unbuttons his shirt, sliding it off one shoulder, revealing the full glowing handprint Maria saw the corner of in the bar the other day. Alex grabs Michael’s left hand, the recently healed one. 

“What are you doing?” There’s still an edge of alarm to his voice, but Maria can feel that he has settled a little. 

Alex looks Michael square in the eyes. “Will you trust me?”

Michael just nods and lets Alex press his left hand to the handprint. He places Michael’s right hand back next to Isobel’s over Max’s heart and directs them both to try again. Maria watches Alex close his eyes in concentration. Maria’s senses are flooded by the waves of love that she can feel Alex _push _into Michael. It suddenly clicks for Maria. She knows from Liz that the handprint creates a psychic bond; that she and Max could feel each other, and if Max touched the handprint, they could even share in each other’s memories. This was always Alex’s backup plan, she realizes, to use his love for Michael to fuel the resurrection, and she thinks it might be working. When Maria tries to read Michael now, she senses a shift in his entropy. His emotions were storming before, fighting against each other, but now, it’s like everything else has gone quiet, and the love pours out of him bright and strong. Michael rests his forehead against Alex’s, eyes closed, gripping Alex’s shoulder with his left hand, as his right glows red next to both of Isobel’s. She can tell he’s emitting energy and the lights they’ve set up in the cave flicker wildly, but he no longer looks as pained. 

Maria’s focused so entirely on Michael, that it’s not until she’s knocked sideways as Liz suddenly leaps to her feet and throws herself at Max, that she realizes that Max’s chest is now rising and falling on its own accord. Liz is clutching at Max and sobbing, as he comes to enough to wrap his arms around her. Isobel is sagged against Kyle, who is making her drink water as he takes her vitals. Michael collapses into Alex for a moment, until Max jostles them as he attempts to sit up. They seem to remember simultaneously that they aren’t supposed to be touching each other like this, and pull apart. Michael, after assuring himself that Max seems to still be breathing steadily, rushes to Izzy’s side, nearly knocking over Valenti in the process. Isobel lets Michael hold her, but she never takes her eyes off Max, seemingly afraid to blink in case when she opens her eyes, he’ll be suspended in that pod again. Michael has an arm secured tightly around Izzy, and his eyes flicker between his siblings, but his left hand unconsciously touches his shoulder in the same spot the handprint is splayed on Alex’s. 

A hand on her arm causes her to flinch and she realizes Alex has come to sit down beside her. “You ok? That was a lot.” His tone is gentle, but uncertain in a way it hasn’t been in weeks. This close she can feels even more strongly the echo of emotions from both Alex and Michael, their energies intertwined through the handprint now. Maria considers him thoughtfully, before reaching over to grip his hand. “Yeah. It was a lot.” They both know she’s not talking about the resurrection. “I didn’t realize… I guess, maybe I didn’t _want _to…” She trails off, staring fixedly at their joined hands. “I am sorry, you know. I don’t think I ever said that.” She can hear Alex shift uncomfortably next to her. He’s always struggled to verbalize what he’s feeling, especially when he’s vulnerable, so it’s not surprising to Maria that he doesn’t respond right away. She does think it’s progress that he doesn’t immediately wave away her apology either. They both have work to do on accepting that their own wants actually matter.

When he does speak after a long moment, he seems to choose his words carefully. “I had ten years to tell you about it, and I never did. Part of it was because it didn’t feel like just mine to tell, but mostly I didn’t know how to explain it when I haven’t really always understood. It took me a long time to even get to a place where I was ready for it.” He laughs ruefully, “As always, our timing was obviously off.” He pauses, taking one of his deep centering breaths as he always does now when he needs a minute. He continues, “I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t hard for me, that it was you and him. But, I know better than anyone how everything else can disappear when he looks at you. If you needed that, well, I get it.”

She swallows hard, before forcing herself to drag her eyes up to meet Alex’s. “It was never like that with us...for _either_ of us.” She admits. “We both wanted it to be, I think. But we didn’t, couldn’t, find that in each other.” They’re still kind of talking around it, not able to even say Michael’s name, but she thinks maybe it’s enough for now. It’s already an emotionally draining night, maybe they don’t need to say everything that’s been left unsaid between them right this minute. 

They are interrupted anyways, by Max’s exasperated shout of, “Valenti, enough. Please, I’m ok, but I’d like to get out of this cave someday.” His siblings seem to have recovered their energy enough to move to his side, obediently waiting with Liz, close enough to touch him, feel his warmth, but allowing Kyle the space to do a brief checkup. Kyle and Liz have a silent conversation over Max’s head. Maria can tell they both would prefer to drag Max to a hospital and run every test in the book to be sure he really is ok, but they know that’s an impossibility, so they agree that they should all move back to Max’s place.

They haul Max up, and he leans heavily on Kyle and Liz. Isobel and Michael are too weak to be much support, so they trail close behind, unwilling to allow Max to be too far away from them, even for the short trip to the cars. Though his focus is on Max, Maria sees Michael’s gaze unconsciously flicker towards Alex every few seconds, as she and Alex walk behind the rest of the group. Maria sees Michael’s eyes narrow in concern over Alex’s barely noticeable limp, the result likely of too little sleep and too long kneeling on the uneven cave floor. Alex doesn’t seem to notice, as he’s too busy evaluating Michael and Isobel’s stamina. She can see that he’s primed to step forward to support either of them if they stumble, even as his own balance is a little off currently. 

Once back at Max’s they all collapse exhausted in his rather spacious living room. Liz curled against one side of Max, and Isobel on the other, while Michael’s reclines in the chair across from them, looking wrecked. Alex and Maria perch on stools next to the kitchen island, watching as Kyle rushes around doling out food and drinks, always the doctor, making sure everyone’s physical needs are met, before he begs off, indicating an early shift the next day. Maria suddenly feels like an outsider, unsure of her place here anymore. Liz can’t take her eyes or her hands off Max, and really doesn’t need Maria, but for some reason she’s not ready to remove herself from this situation. It feels petty to admit it’s mostly about the way Michael and Alex are looking at each other, the connection she can feel vibrating between them. Alex’s words echo in her mind: when Michael looks at him, everything else, including her, disappears. She really wants to get to a place where she’s happy for Michael and Alex if they can figure out a way to make things work, and it frustrates her that her stomach still drops at the thought. Maria feels the start of a headache coming on. She wonders if it’s some kind of psychic hangover, brought on by an an overdose of emotion swirling all around her tonight or the result of guilt that she’s having so much trouble being the bigger person. She’s not ready to leave completely but suddenly she really needs some air. The storm has quieted, so the air is humid but comfortable as she escapes wordlessly out the side door, sinking into an Adirondack chair by the fire pit. She lights up a joint, hoping it will combat the impending headache. 

After about ten minutes as the world begins to soften around her, she hears footsteps behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Alex head for his car, not noticing her stretched out in the chair nearby. He opens the driver’s side door but before he can climb in, the door slams shut. Alex whirls around to watch Michael shuffle towards him, seemingly having further exhausted himself with even this small use of powers. 

“What the hell, Guerin?” There’s no bite behind Alex’s words, just exhaustion. 

“You’re leaving?” Michael sounds more hurt than angry. 

“I thought you would want time with your family.” Maria has a good vantage point from where she’s sitting, the outside lights illuminating the cars, leaving the fire pit in shadow. This is starting to seem like a pattern for her, being in places she’s not supposed to be, hearing things she shouldn’t be hearing. But just like that day in the Crashdown, she’s glued to her seat. 

“I thought you said _you _were my family.” Michael’s voice is quiet now that he’s made his way to the car and is leaning sideways against it, facing Alex. Alex sighs and takes a step towards Michael halving the distance between them. 

“I am.” He replies, just as softly. “I was just trying to give you a little space.” Maria can see the familiar tension in his hands as he clenches them tightly behind his back. 

Michael inches closer. “What if I don’t want space?” Maria can feel a surge of hope from Alex, even from this distance, followed by an immediate attempt to squash it. Michael continues, “I don’t think you do either. The handprint, it doesn’t lie.” He says it like a statement, but Maria can hear a questioning, insecure lilt to his tone. 

Alex lets out another long breath, still working to keep his emotions in check. “Guerin, you’ve been through a lot tonight. Not just tonight, the last few months have been intense. What I showed you in the cave, that was the truth, that’s how I feel. But what _you’re _feeling right now? Liz told me that the handprint, it links us, links our emotions. So you’re feeling an echo of what I feel for you. It’ll fade in a few days, and you’ll remember all the reasons why you didn’t want to do this.” 

“Come on, Alex. You’ve never needed a psychic handprint to know what I feel for you.” Michael shakes his head slightly, a fond exasperation on his face. “I still haven’t looked away.”

Maria’s not sure if she wants to roll her eyes or swoon. Jesus, Michael was never big with the declarations with her, but with Alex apparently he talks like he’s in a fucking Lifetime movie. The implications of his words sting a bit, but they are just a confirmation of what she already knew. 

Michael reaches out, hooking a finger in Alex’s belt loop and tugging him even closer. Maria senses Alex’s resistance start to crumble. She feels a little like a voyeur, but there’s no way she’s leaving now. 

“Michael,” Alex breathes. “I meant it when I said I wanted to start over, build things up the right way. But since then, we still haven’t really talked, about Caulfield, or Maria, or so many other things. I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes. Crashing back together or falling apart in the wake of traumatic and emotional events.” 

“You called me Michael. That feels like progress.” Michael sounds like he might actually cry. “Can’t we just...forget the rest for right now? Just for tonight?” 

Maria sees the instant Alex loses the battle he’s been fighting with himself, unlacing his fingers from behind his back and bringing a hand up to cup Michael’s jaw. “Ok.” Alex relents, “For tonight. And then we’ll talk?” Michael barely pauses to nod, as he slides a hand into Alex’s hair and surges forwards, kissing Alex like he needs him to breath. They grip each other tightly, swaying together for a beat before pulling apart just far enough to press their foreheads together, a mirror of their position earlier in the cave. 

“Nauseating isn’t it?” Maria’s been so engrossed, she completely missed Isobel making her way outside until she’s collapsing in the chair next to her, plucking the joint from Maria’s hand and taking a long draw. Maria gapes at her as she continues, voice low, seemingly not wanting to be caught spying anymore than Maria does. “I feel like I have a freaking psychic hangover from the love fest going on inside, and now I come out to this.” Isobel waves her hand in Michael and Alex’s general direction, a look of annoyance on her face. 

Maria lets out a startled laugh, before clapping a hand over her mouth. Luckily Michael and Alex don’t seem to have noticed. Michael leans heavily on Alex now, his head tucked against Alex’s neck, Alex’s arms wound protectively around Michael, as he braces himself against the car. Isobel looks at her questioningly. “I was thinking the exact same thing earlier,” Maria explains in a hushed tone. “It’s why I came out here actually. All that love swirling around gave me a headache. The pot helps.” Maria snags the joint back from Isobel taking another hit. 

Isobel studies her appraisingly, as though she’s really seeing Maria for the first time. “Oh right, you’re kind of psychic too. Guess we have more in common than just our pathetic love lives.” Maria feels like she should be offended both by the ‘kind of’ and the crack about her love life, but god help her, Maria’s always had such a fondness for sass, so it really only endears Isobel to her. 

She’s not sure if it’s the pot, the exhaustion, or the sense of connection that seems to have sprung up between them that leads her to ask, “With Noah, did everything else disappear when he looked at you?” 

Isobel considers for a minute. “No,” she says finally. “It never did. I loved him; I wish I didn’t, but I did. But he wasn’t my person. I could never be myself with him, so I could never relax enough for that.” 

“Yeah,” Maria agrees quietly. 

Isobel seems surprised and embarrassed by her momentarily bout of honesty. She regains her composure quickly, returning to her regular snarky coolness. “Sorry though, your failed three month experiment of playing house with my brother kind of pales in comparison to my five year marriage to a serial killer who violated my body and mind to murder people.” Maria’s read Isobel before, but nothing she saw or felt from her during that reading is as illuminating as the edge of vulnerability that sneaks into her caustic tone. 

Maria picks her words carefully knowing that this tentative bond will be snapped if Isobel senses even a trace of pity. Suddenly that’s really something she doesn’t want. “Wow, you really are a bitch,” Maria comments, keeping her voice light. “Luckily, I kind of love it.” Maria’s pleased when Isobel gives her another surprised and approving once over. Apparently Maria’s not the only one who appreciates sass.

“So, do you want to keep sitting here watching your ex-boyfriend and your best friend cosmically reconnect, or do you want to break into Max’s study where he keeps the good scotch?” Isobel offers. Maria allows herself one more glance over at Michael and Alex. They haven’t moved, still wrapped up in one another. For a moment she’s able to view them as an objective observer; the contentment radiating off of them both, the sense of peace they seem to find in each other, warms her heart. She forces herself to look away, before reality crashes back in. She pulls her gaze back to Isobel instead, transfixed for a beat by the way her blond hair gleams in the moonlight like a beacon. Maria gives her head a shake to clear it, and throws Isobel a dazzling smile. “By all means, lead the way.” 


End file.
